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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205353">Happy Childhoods Make for Dull Company</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolishedJade/pseuds/PolishedJade'>PolishedJade</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyLaCroix/pseuds/TeddyLaCroix'>TeddyLaCroix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Background Character Death, Dancing, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jaskier confronts his past, Jaskier had a bad childhood, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Midsummer, dead family members</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:42:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolishedJade/pseuds/PolishedJade, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyLaCroix/pseuds/TeddyLaCroix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier gets invited back to his hometown to sing at a Midsummer festival, and he invites his boyfriend, Geralt, along. Geralt has been dating Jaskier for a long time, and although the bard is talkative and seemingly carefree, Jaskier is hiding parts of his past and Geralt knows there is more to Jaskier than he lets on. While at the festival, Jaskier learns of his father's death, and tries to pick up the pieces of the family and the life he's left behind, finally confronting the reality that he has inherited the position of Viscount de Lettenhove. In the midst of Midsummer feasts, dancing, and other activities, Jaskier finally confronts his true feelings for Geralt, works out what pleases him, and learns that he can choose his new family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Geraskier Midsummer Mini Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
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</div><p>Geralt had thought nothing of it when Jaskier had started talking to a pretty girl after his performance. He still needed to keep up a reputation, after all, and flirting brought in more coin. It was not so unusual to see him talking to his fans. </p><p>It was unusual for Jaskier to light up the way he did, hug that pretty girl, and then walk back to Geralt without so much as a coin exchanging hands. </p><p>Jaskier noticed Geralt eyeing him suspiciously, but grinned and answered lightly. “An old friend,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.” </p><p>It wasn’t until they were back on the road and Jaskier was acting distracted that Geralt’s questions reemerged. Jaskier had said barely a word while walking besides Roach. He had hummed some bright melody under his breath while gathering firewood, but Geralt knew him well enough to know he wasn’t composing, and it was no song Geralt had ever heard before.</p><p>“What are you humming?” Geralt asked. </p><p>“Why, do you like it?” Jaskier moved to sit down next to him, and Geralt grunted in response. “It’s an old song, one that my mother used to sing to me. It was very popular in the area where I grew up.” Jaskier’s eyes looked into the distance, his thoughts miles away. A somberness had come over him, and there was a wistful yearning in his expression that made Geralt uneasy. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” </p><p>Jaskier looked at Geralt, startled, as if he’d not noticed that Geralt was still there. “My dear Witcher, nothing at all is wrong. The stars are bright, my stomach is full, the fire is warm, and I could not ask for better company. Why do you ask?” </p><p>Geralt grunted. “You’re being quiet.” </p><p>Jaskier chuckled softly. “I’m thinking.” </p><p>“That’s a first,” Geralt retorted. </p><p>Jaskier sighed, but he was still smiling. “Alright. You’re right. I met an old friend today. She invited me to play at a festival — a very casual affair, mind you, it’s not a competition or a banquet or anything of the sort — and I’m trying to decide if I should go. It’s in my hometown, and the thought of returning is making me… nostalgic. There are things I buried there, ghosts I’m afraid will come to haunt me if I dare step foot on those long-untreaded graveyards. You’ll protect me from the ghosts, though, won’t you? My dear Witcher, always keeping me safe from the ghosts and the monsters and the nightmares.” </p><p>“Jaskier—” </p><p>“You could come too, if you wanted. To the festival,” Jaskier said quickly. “It’s wonderful fun, Midsummer. There’s honey mead, and fish, flowers, and flower crowns, and strawberries, and strawberry wine. Oh, and there’s a big bonfire at night, and dancing… I should quite enjoy seeing the Butcher of Blaviken with flowers in his hair, dancing around a maypole.” </p><p>Geralt grunted at the thought. “I don’t know,” he said softly. </p><p>“You don’t know if we should go?” Jaskier asked. “Or you don’t know how to dance?” </p><p>“Both,” Geralt said plainly. </p><p>The pair sat in silence for a moment, only the sound of the crackling flames echoing through the dark forest, and then—</p><p>“You don’t know how to dance?” Jaskier stood up, holding his arms out in the way he often did when he was putting on theatrics. </p><p>Geralt looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s so easy to imagine Vesemir in ballet shoes, teaching me how to dance.” </p><p>Jaskier ignored Geralt completely, lost in his own dramatics. “This is— I mean, this is a travesty! A devastation of the highest order, Geralt! Everyone knows how to dance!” </p><p>Geralt looked back to the flames and said nothing. Jaskier put his hands on his hips, biting his lips, thinking. </p><p>“Right. Yeah. Okay. Get up.” Geralt did not move. “Geralt, <em>get up.</em> I will not walk this Continent a moment longer with the knowledge that you, my love, and possibly the greatest swordsman of all time, has lived nigh a century, and you never learned to dance. And to top it all off you are <em>dating me.</em> Even if we don’t end up going to the festival, this is a <em>universal</em> skill everyone must have.” </p><p>Jaskier stepped to move farther away from the fire, to give himself space, and held his hand out to Geralt. “Get up,” he said again, softer this time. He allowed a soft tender smile to grace his features, the one that he knew Geralt couldn’t resist. A heavy sigh fell from Geralt’s lips as he took Jaskier’s hand. </p><p>Geralt stood, one hand in Jaskier’s, looking at the bard for direction. Jaskier pulled Geralt closer to him, and Geralt allowed himself to be correctly positioned. Jaskier placed Geralt’s hand on the small of his back, then grabbed the Witcher’s other hand, placing his own on Geralt’s shoulder. He looked down at Geralt’s boots, making sure their feet were lined up, and looked up into Geralt’s eyes, tender and trusting. Geralt was struck with the sudden thought that perhaps Jaskier was the only person crazy enough to try to teach a Witcher to dance.</p><p>“So, the dances at the festival will probably be more complicated and technical than what I’m about to teach you, but seeing as this is your first time dancing, I suppose I’d better start with the basics.” Jaskier bent his elbow in a way that looked perfectly confident and natural, as if it were something he had done a hundred times before. Geralt vaguely wondered where Jaskier had learned to dance, but before he could ask, Jaskier continued. “In a waltz, this is a neutral position. We keep this form, always. Got it?” </p><p>A begrudging <em>hmmm</em> from Geralt spurred Jaskier on. </p><p>“Seeing as you are the bigger person in this pairing, you will take the leading part. Which, actually, is the easier part, so that’s great for us. Now, all you have to do is take a step forward with your left foot—” </p><p>Jaskier stepped back on his right foot, and Geralt followed his instruction. “And now, step right with your right foot, and close them together. See?” </p><p>Geralt followed his lead, completing one half of a box step. “Wonderful! Now do the same, but step backwards.” Jaskier took a step forward, using the momentum to will Geralt backwards, and Geralt did indeed step backwards into place, with a dignity and grace that made up for his lack of enthusiasm.</p><p>“Brilliant,” Jaskier said. “If I had not been to a banquet with you and seen how utterly miserable you were there, I would have never known you weren’t born to float across ballrooms. Let’s do it a few more times, shall we?” </p><p>They practiced for a few minutes longer, until Geralt could do a box step without looking at his feet. When they stopped, Jaskier took a step back and curtsied deeply. </p><p>“Congratulations,” he said. “You have successfully completed the waltz. And you have successfully seduced me.”</p><p>Jaskier’s hands found the front of Geralt’s shirt, and Geralt allowed Jaskier to pull him in close, the smell of vanilla and sweat filling his senses. Jaskier kissed him, slowly and tenderly, and when he pulled away for air Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s, breathing him in, unable to let go. He closed his eyes and stood there for a moment, just feeling Jaskier’s skin pressed against his own, listening to Jaskier’s breath. </p><p>“What a waste it would be, now,” Jaskier said softly. “What a shame if you missed the festival, and denied me the pleasure of waltzing with you. You would have nowhere to show off your new skills.”</p><p>“If you want to go, Jaskier, we will go.” </p><p>Jaskier pulled away to look at Geralt. “Really? You’d do that for me?” </p><p>Geralt hmmed. “Wouldn’t want you to hold it against me for the rest of time that I ‘denied you the pleasure.’” </p><p>Jaskier, who usually would have come up with some clever retort, seemed too surprised to even attempt a response. “Thank you,” Jaskier whispered. “Geralt, I—” Jaskier cut himself off, biting his lip. Whatever he was about to say, he thought the better of it. “Thank you,” he repeated, and Geralt smiled softly. </p><p>“You won’t regret it,” Jaskier said, and Geralt desperately hoped that Jaskier was right.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Geralt woke up, Jaskier was gone. </p><p>He sat up with a start, one hand on his steel sword, and looked around wildly. There was one set of tracks leading out of the camp, a footprint Geralt recognized as Jaskier’s, but it was unlike Jaskier to wake so early unprompted. Geralt got to his feet, listening and watching. He heard a noise behind him and turned to meet it. Jaskier was walking towards him, with an armful of brightly colored flowers. </p><p>“Gods,” Jaskier said. “If you wanted to take my head off, you could have done it in my sleep and saved me the trouble of a heart attack.” </p><p>Geralt dropped his stance and sheathed his sword. “Thought you might have been in trouble. What are those?” </p><p>Jaskier had started to carefully tuck the flowers inside his lute case so that they just stuck out of one of the pockets. “There’s a lovely meadow just a stone’s throw away, beautiful flowers growing this time of year.” Geralt too, started to pack up his things. He threw his pack on Roach, and then Jaskier was beside him, lute slung over his shoulder. </p><p>“Which way to the festival?” Geralt asked Jaskier. </p><p>“It’s just a bit to the west of here, not too far. Only a day or two. We’ll be just in time for the fire wheel!” </p><p>“The what?” Geralt mounted Roach and urged her forward. Jaskier followed. </p><p>“The night before Midsummer, there’s a tradition called the fire wheel. And then on Midsummer, we gather herbs, and flowers, and go swimming, and there’s a wonderful dance, and the music festival, and a feast, and bonfires.” </p><p>“How long is this, exactly?”</p><p>“Only a few days,” Jaskier said. “I really only need to be there for the music performance, but I should like to stay an extra day, to see some old friends. Oh, <em>fuck</em>.” </p><p>Geralt turned to see what had ceased the conversation so abruptly, but Jaskier was simply following behind Geralt, his hands on his hips, staring up at the sky and squinting. </p><p>“If I am to perform, I should write an original song for the occasion. Something the people have never heard before; a tale of Midsummer, something bright and cheery and romantic… I shall have to write on the road.” </p><p>As they traveled, Jaskier continued to talk and hum and sing, and Geralt, half paying attention, only caught bits and pieces of the lyrics and ideas that flew from Jaskier’s mouth. He pulled out his lute and played for a couple of minutes, but mostly Geralt could only hear mutterings of melodies in between the sound of Roach’s footfalls. </p><p>It was not until mid-morning that the pair came to a fork in the road, and Geralt looked back at Jaskier for direction. </p><p>“Which way— what are you doing?” </p><p>Geralt’s inquiry halted the bard’s fingers, which until that moment had been busy pulling the flowers from his pocket and weaving them together. </p>
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</div><p>Jaskier looked at the fork in the road. “Left,” he said, ignoring the Witcher’s question, and resumed his weaving. </p><p>Geralt grunted and urged Roach on. </p><p>Geralt could see Jaskier working out of the corner of his eye, until the bard’s dexterous and clever movements halted and he held up a circlet of braided golden flowers. He put it on his head, and although it seemed slightly too big for him, he said “Oh, beautiful,” then took it off and put his arm through it so that it rested on his elbow away from the rest of his body, being careful not to crush it. He then proceeded to pull out a couple of blue flowers and began to weave them together as he had the yellow ones, humming all the while. </p><p>“What rhymes with bird?” Jaskier said out loud, though Geralt knew he was not actually looking for an answer. “Or wait, no… what rhymes with swan?” Jaskier’s brows knitted together in concentration, and his tongue darted out across his lower lip. </p><p>A few moments of silence passed, until Jaskier declared that the crown was complete and placed the wreath of blue flowers upon his head. This one was smaller than the last, and when placed upon the bard’s hair, it brought out his eyes. Jaskier jogged a little ways to get ahead of Roach, and, walking backwards, he offered the yellow flower crown to Geralt. </p><p>“It is customary to adorn one’s head with a crown of flowers at the Midsummer festival,” Jaskier said with a mischievous grin. “I’ve saved us the trouble of buying some from the market. Criminally overpriced. My craftsmanship is exceedingly fine and my wares are free to friends, so consider yourself lucky, Geralt.” </p><p>Geralt eyed the crown and grunted. </p><p>“You, uh, don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. I just thought I would give you the choice of having one.” </p><p>Geralt took the crown, and after a moment of consideration placed it on his head. </p><p>“Excellent,” Jaskier said, looking all too pleased with himself.</p><p>“You’re going to trip,” Geralt said. </p><p>Jaskier resumed his place, walking forwards, beside Roach. He pulled out his lute and started to play. </p><p>“I think I have the first verse, and perhaps a chorus,” Jaskier said. “What do you think of this?” </p><p> </p><p>It took the rest of the day for Jaskier to finish his song, and he played it in its completion one final time before falling asleep. He had assured Geralt that they were not far from Lettenhove, and that they would make it before nightfall the next day. </p><p>Geralt lay awake long after Jaskier had fallen asleep, his mind full with thoughts and questions of Midsummer and of Jaskier’s past. He watched Jaskier sleep, the bard’s chest slowly rising and falling in a steady rhythm, shadows from the firelight dancing across his skin. </p><p>In Geralt’s experience, most people were tough and alert during the day, and it was only in the throes of sleep that their body language relaxed. Jaskier was the opposite. His eyes, jaw, and fists were always clenched shut when he slept, his knees almost completely up to his chest. Geralt knew he often had night terrors, but Jaskier never liked to talk about them. Geralt had often awoken in the middle of the night to kiss the bard’s forehead, to wrap his arms around Jaskier’s sleeping form and just hold him. Geralt wanted to promise that nothing in his dreams would hurt him; wanted to protect him from the monsters that plagued his nightmares as well as he protected others from the nightmares that plagued the real world, but he knew that he could not. </p><p>Jaskier started to shiver. Geralt sat up, ready to get an extra blanket, but then he heard Jaskier groan in his sleep. Jaskier’s arms were covering his chest protectively, his head twitching slowly. He groaned again, and then whispered something that sounded like “please don’t,” and he sounded so vulnerable, so scared and weak, that Geralt could not stop himself. He moved closer to Jaskier, hesitating for just a moment, before taking Jaskier’s shaking form in his arms. He held Jaskier close to his chest, and ran one of his hands through Jaskier’s hair, stroking it softly. </p><p>“It’s alright,” Geralt said. He thought of the millions of things he could say, the promises he could make, and all of them fell flat. “It’s alright,” he repeated. He felt Jaskier stiffen in his embrace, and knew that Jaskier was awake. Slowly Jaskier started to relax, unclenching his fists and leaning back into Geralt. </p><p>“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered, and Geralt hmmed. Jaskier fell asleep in Geralt’s embrace, and after a moment, Geralt drifted off to sleep as well. </p><p>Geralt awoke before Jaskier, and softly shook him awake. Together they cleared the campsite and packed their things, an unspoken agreement between them to not discuss Jaskier’s night terrors. They were on the road again fairly quickly, and Jaskier’s mood brightened as soon as they started to get close.</p><p>The pair crested a large green hill, and Geralt stopped Roach to look down on the valley below. Waves of green hills, some empty and filled with only grass, some with lined rows of crops, spread out as far as the eye could see. A large river surged to the east, and a castle stood to the north. In the middle of it all sat a large town, with roads coming out of the town square and going off in every-which direction. Houses of various material and size were built against the hillsides, allowing easy access to both the town proper and the fields of crops. </p><p>“Lettenhove,” Jaskier said proudly, and took off down the path. </p><p>People looked strangely at the couple when they entered town, but it was something that Geralt was used to. It was not until he noticed that they were all staring at Jaskier, and not at him, that he started to feel uneasy. Jaskier must have noticed Geralt’s uncomfortableness, because he took Geralt’s hand in his own. </p><p>“They’ve never seen a bard of my caliber,” Jaskier said. Geralt grunted. </p><p>“They should consider themselves lucky,” Geralt muttered. </p><p>Jaskier placed a hand on his chest and feigned offense. “I am deeply hurt.” </p><p>“You’ll get used to it.” </p><p>Jaskier muttered something under his breath, but whatever he said was instantly forgotten as he started to walk through town. </p><p>“Gods Geralt, I haven’t seen this place in years. They’ve moved the butcher shop!” </p><p>“How dare they,” Geralt said, his eyes sweeping across cobblestone streets and wooden buildings with steep roofs to keep off snow. Flowers hung in the windowsills and above the doorways of most houses. The town was fairly large, and dozens of people milled about on the street, carrying baskets of goods and talking in excited chatter.</p><p>“The blacksmith is still here though, I wonder if it’s run by the same family… Ah, and the inn! Where I gave my very first performance. If only they had known then that I would become famous, perhaps they would have tipped better.” </p><p>Several people were openly staring at Jaskier now, whispering in groups. The crowds around them did not part, but people avoided meeting Jaskier’s or Geralt’s gaze. Geralt’s hand itched, wanting to go to his sword, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. </p><p>Jaskier led Geralt through town, pointing out remembered spots of his childhood as he went, all the while ignoring the reactions of those around him. The buildings started to thin and the chatter of the townspeople grew quieter as Jaskier followed a dirt road that led up a hill and to a small stone castle, or perhaps a large manor, with a flat roof and two large square towers. </p><p>“And here is where we will be staying, if our host will so oblige us.” Jaskier spread his arms out in front of the castle, and Geralt looked up at the towers, both hosting banners with a sigil he had never seen. </p><p>“Are we relying on one of your ex-lovers for lodgings?” Geralt grunted. “I think we’d have better luck trying to sleep in a cockatrice’s cave.” </p><p>Jaskier <em>tsk</em>ed. “You insult me, Geralt. I would never dishonor myself so, begging for sanctuary from an old love while traveling with my new one. No, this is where I grew up, and I think perhaps my family is too resigned to proper manners to allow their son and his guest to sleep outside in the cold... I think. Worth a try, right?” </p><p>“You grew up here? What are you, the son of a kitchen maid?” </p><p>“Of course not. I’m the son of a Viscount.” Jaskier smiled cheekily at Geralt’s disbelief. He walked up to the castle door and knocked. </p><p>The door was opened by a young woman in a beautiful black gown, long brown hair flowing freely around her face. Geralt looked at her face, into cornflower blue eyes, eyes that were almost familiar to him.</p><p>“Julian?” The woman asked. She looked as if she were looking at a ghost, her eyes wide and her brows furrowed. Jaskier did not seem to notice. </p><p>“Teresa! How splendid to see you!” </p><p>“Julian, what the hell are you doing here?” She stepped from her place in the doorway, pulling Jaskier into a hug, holding him as if she were scared he would run from her arms. </p><p>“I met Anya on the road, and she invited me to play at the Midsummer festival. I was hoping Geralt and I would be able to stay a few nights,” Jaskier said. Teresa stepped back from the hug and her eyes swept over Geralt, but if she seemed surprised to see Jaskier in the company of a Witcher, she did not show it. </p><p>Teresa nodded at Jaskier and folded her arms. “Well, Julian, who am I to deny a Viscount into his own castle?” </p><p>Both Geralt and Jaskier were visibly confused by her comment. </p><p>“Viscount?” Jaskier asked. </p><p>Teresa’s eyes grew misty, but no tears fell. “You truly came to play for the Midsummer festival? Swear to me, Julian, swear to me you didn’t know.” </p><p>Jaskier’s face filled with recognition and a look of horror came over him. “I didn’t know, Tess, I swear to you I had no idea. I’m— Gods, I’m so sorry, this must look terrible, but I swear to you I’m not here because of that.” </p><p>Teresa nodded and looked back at Geralt,who was still utterly confused. “You two better come inside.” She turned on her heel and stepped into the castle. </p><p>“Julian?” Geralt asked as he followed Jaskier inside. </p><p>“Look, it was a long time ago, and Jaskier suits me so much better, doesn’t it?” </p><p>Geralt <em>hmmm</em>ed his agreement and looked around the castle. Tall, slim windows on either side of the front entryway allowed the summer sunlight to come streaming in over marble floors and stone walls. Torches, not illuminated, hung from every wall. A large tapestry of an eagle in a garden hung across from the doorway. Teresa led them from the front entryway into a magnificent ballroom. Jaskier hardly took a glance around the room, but Geralt was momentarily stunned by the extravagant murals that covered all of the walls, floor to ceiling, of nobles sitting in the clouds, draped in fineries and feasting. There was a golden chandelier that hung from the ceiling, and the whole room had an air that one was standing in a palace in the sky. Teresa moved through the room swiftly and silently, leading the couple into the kitchen. It, much like the rest of the castle, was empty. Geralt had not seen a trace of any life, be it servants or pets or people, anywhere. </p><p>“You must be hungry, and tired from your journey,” Teresa said. She gestured to a couple of stools positioned around one of the surfaces in the kitchen, creating a makeshift bar. “Please, have a seat.” Jaskier took a stool, sitting at the counter, and Geralt followed suit. </p><p>Jaskier ran his hands through his hair. “When did father die?” he asked softly. Geralt turned towards him, slowly putting the pieces together.</p><p>“It’s been almost two weeks,” Teresa responded, pouring glasses of ale. “I would have sent you a letter, but I had no idea what name you were going by or where you were. I thought that even if you did hear, you might not come back.” </p><p>“I would have, for your sake, Tess. I wouldn’t leave you here alone.” </p><p>“You left me here before.” Teresa’s eyes were the same cornflower blue as Jaskier’s, but where his were all sparkle and shine, hers were cold and steely. Jaskier was rubbing his fingers together, the way he often did when he was nervous. Teresa handed Geralt and Jaskier a glass, taking one for her own. Jaskier did not drink. Geralt did. </p><p>“Did he suffer?” Jaskier asked. </p><p>“Not so much as mother, I think. He knew he was dying, but he was not as sick. He died in his sleep.” </p><p>“I’m sorry I left you here alone so long. I should have returned sooner.” </p><p>Teresa looked at Jaskier, her jaw set. “Yes. You should have.” </p><p>Jaskier looked ashamed, but he did not apologize again. He picked up the glass, staring at it, thinking. “He left me the inheritance? Even though he hated me? Even though he knew what I was?” </p><p>“You <em>are</em> his only heir. You are the Viscount de Lettenhove now, Julian. The castle is yours. The land, the town, the fiefdom, the money, everything.” </p><p>“Good, yeah, good.” Jaskier swallowed the entire contents of the glass and exhaled sharply. His eyes shot back up to Teresa. “You will stay, right?” </p><p>She looked shocked. “You’ll let me?” </p><p>“Of course! I’m not going to kick my own sister out of her home. I’m not here to take the inheritance, Tess. In fact, if I can, I’m going to find a way to get rid of it. I don’t want it. I really don’t.” </p><p>Teresa laughed. “Father always said one day you would tire of incompetence and return home to take your place, but you really never will, will you?” </p><p>She was joking, but Jaskier was not. “Never. I quite enjoy the life he so often chastised. I’ve found freedom, and I’ve found fame, and I’ve found love. Things I want and cherish. Things he could never understand.” </p><p>Teresa nodded, though she still looked less than convinced. “And how did Geralt get mixed up in all of this?” </p><p>“I’m dating him,” Geralt said, folding his arms across his chest. Teresa sighed. </p><p>“I guessed as much. He always has had a knack for interesting company.” </p><p>Geralt regarded Jaskier, who shrugged. “You know she’s not wrong,” Geralt grunted. </p><p>“So what will you do?” Teresa asked. </p><p>“I’m here to play at Midsummer and to show Geralt the town. I’ll do that, I suppose.”</p><p>“And after that?” </p><p>Jaskier got quiet. “I don’t know, Tess. I’ll figure it out.” </p><p>Teresa looked at the floor. Jaskier looked like he was debating whether or not to reach out to her, and ultimately decided against it. </p><p>“The fire wheel is still tonight, right? I suppose we’ll start by watching that.” </p><p>The corner of Teresa’s mouth twitched a little, and she looked at Jaskier. “I hope you enjoy yourselves.” She finished her drink and turned to walk away. “I’ll prepare a room for you. Julian, you remember where everything is?” Jaskier nodded. “Help yourself to anything you can find. It all technically belongs to you, anyway.” </p><p>Teresa walked out of the room and Jaskier stood. </p><p>“Are you alright?” Geralt asked. </p><p>Jaskier nodded. “A little shocked, but fine, I think. I didn’t ever expect— I mean, I knew I was meant to one day inherit this place, I just never really believed it would happen.” </p><p>Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s hand. Jaskier looked down at him and smiled. </p><p>“I think it’s time to see what exactly Tessa has stocked away in the pantry.” </p><p>It took about an hour to find something to eat and to walk back into town, and by the time Jaskier and Geralt had reached their destination, the sun had set. The entire village stood atop a green hillside, watching as a group of young men rolled a giant wheel up to the top of the hill. The townspeople cheered and shouted to the laborers, encouraging them or in some cases berating them to move faster, and when the wheel had reached the top of the hill, everyone started to cheer and applaud. Another man walked up the hill, this one old and with a long beard with flowers braided into it. He held a lit torch, the fire swaying in the breeze. He reached the top of the hill, and the crowd fell silent. </p><p>“Welcome, one and all, young and old, from far or from near, welcome to the Midsummer festival!” The man smiled, holding the torch high above his head. He waited for the crowd to die down, and continued. </p><p>“We now light the Fire Wheel! May the powers above grant that it burns bright, a flame eternal!” Everyone cheered and applauded again. </p><p>Before Geralt could ask, Jaskier was whispering in his ear. “It represents the sun,” he said. “The wheel has four cross sections, which are like the four seasons, see? The sun burns through all four of the seasons, and that’s another year. Those men are going to run with the wheel, and push it all the way down the hill and into that river. If it stays on fire all the way to the river, then that means the village has good luck and a good harvest until we do it again next Midsummer.” </p><p>“And if the wheel burns out?” Geralt asked. </p><p>“Then our luck is bad, and we must dance twice as well tomorrow to try and please the Gods,” Jaskier said. </p><p>Two of the young men that had carried the wheel up the hill now took their place beside it, each holding an axletree that jutted from the side to guide the wheel. They nodded to each other and gave some kind of signal to the old man, who raised his torch high and then lit the wheel on fire.<br/>
The young men started to run, each keeping pace with the other, and the wheel caught fire and rolled end over end, aflame. </p><p>The people on the hillside gave the wheel a good head start, and then the children and some of the more jubilant adults started to run down the hillside after the wheel, all giving it a wide berth. Geralt watched as the wheel rolled all the way down the countryside, and the fire grew weaker. Just before the men reached the river, the fire found new purchase and sparked to life again, to the joy of all who watched. The wheel, still lit, was plunged into the river, and Jaskier laughed in glee. </p><p>“Good luck!” he exclaimed. “I can’t remember the last time that happened. You must be our good luck charm, darling.” </p><p>Geralt bit back a smile and <em>hmmm</em>ed. He had never been a good luck charm before. Death and destruction followed in his wake. Death and destruction and Jaskier. </p><p>“Tessa should have the rooms prepared by now, and I’m sure you miss the feeling of a proper bed.” Jaskier started down the hill, in the direction towards town. Several people had started walking back home, mothers carrying tired children and some of the younger folk helping the elders to walk down the hill safely. </p><p>Geralt could imagine Jaskier as a child, still dressed in his colorful doublets, running up and down these hills. He could imagine teenage Jaskier, with his lute, singing through the town and in the taverns, surrounded by these people, his voice carried on a summer’s breeze. He could imagine him holding the fire wheel’s axle and guiding it into the river, or else running down alongside it, falling over in the grass and laughing. </p><p>Jaskier seemed at home here. Really, he seemed at ease everywhere, but Geralt noticed the way he stopped to smell the air and take in the sights, the way he smiled and laughed at the people they passed on the way down the hill. He knew every shop and every stone, and he seemed perfectly content to take his time walking up to the castle. Geralt never could imagine Jaskier staying in one place very long. But he could imagine him staying here, in Lettenhove. And even stranger, Geralt could imagine Jaskier growing old, and living happily in the village. </p><p>Jaskier stopped before the front door of the castle, looking up at Geralt. </p><p>“I’ll show you to our room,” Jaskier said. “And then I think I might go to the library, try and see if I can find anything about abdication.” </p><p>“I can help,” Geralt offered. </p><p>Jaskier shook his head. “No, tomorrow is Midsummer, and I want you to experience it fully. You should get a good night’s sleep. Normally I would say the same for myself, but I need to figure out how to get rid of the title I’ve so recently acquired.” </p><p>Geralt thought for a moment. “You don’t have to,” he replied. </p><p>Jaskier chuckled. “Pardon?” </p><p>“You don’t have to,” Geralt repeated. “You wanted to run away to the coast? You wanted to know if Witchers ever retire? We could, we could run away and retire here. You could be the Viscount, if you wanted to.” </p><p>“You wouldn’t mind?” Jaskier said, looking down at his hands. “Dating a member of nobility, attending court, escorting me to balls and banquets? I wouldn’t have to play to unflattering crowds for my bed and my bread, I suppose, and you wouldn’t have to hunt monsters to survive. But would you be happy, trapped in four stone walls, with the eyes and the whispers of the town always on you?”</p><p>“Because I wouldn’t know anything about stares and whispers following me.” Geralt placed a finger under Jaskier’s chin, raising it so he could look into Jaskier’s eyes. “I never thought of spending my life in a castle,” he said. “Society isn’t exactly my thing. But I would be happy in any four walls, if I was trapped with you. And if this is what you want, then I want it too. I love you.” </p><p>A tear fell from Jaskier’s eye and Geralt wiped it away. “Gods, you’re so cliché.” Jaskier said. “You should be ashamed. Who taught you to spew dramatic declarations of love?” </p><p>Geralt grunted. “You did, bard.” </p><p>Jaskier laughed. “Did I?” </p><p>Jaskier moved his hands to rest on Geralt’s chest, toying with the edge of the fabric, as if he wanted to pull the garment off. He suddenly thought the better of it, pulling his hands away to open the door. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said. “But I’m still going to try to look into it. See if it’s an option before I make my choice.”</p><p>Jaskier walked Geralt to their room, kissed him goodnight, and left, closing the door behind him. Geralt found himself alone and in the dark, and though Jaskier had told him to get some sleep, his eyes did not close until hours after Jaskier had left. His mind was too filled with thoughts of Jaskier, and thoughts of Midsummer, and when he finally did dream, he dreamed of Jaskier, running down green and golden hills, set aflame.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Geralt woke up, Jaskier still hadn’t returned to bed. It took a couple minutes of wandering through the castle, but eventually Geralt was able to find the library, a large two-storey room filled to the brim with bookshelves, and bookshelves filled to the brim with books. Jaskier sat in an armchair, fast asleep. On the table next to him was a candle, completely burnt out, and an empty mug of what Geralt guessed had been tea. On his lap was an open book and a soft blanket. Sunlight streamed through the window, lightly brushing over Jaskier’s closed eyes, and dancing in his hair, strands of the soft brown gleaming in the light. Geralt lightly shook Jaskier awake, and Jaskier jumped back in the chair before recognizing Geralt. </p><p>“Oh, Gods, it’s just you.” He stretched and yawned, the blanket slipping down and revealing he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before. He ran a hand through his hair, mussed from sleep, and set the book on the table. He looked at Geralt and grinned. “It’s Midsummer,” he said. “We should go, we’ll miss the herb gathering.” </p><p>“Are you sure?” Geralt asked. “You look like you could use a bath and some breakfast.” </p><p>Jaskier waved him away, standing up from the chair and walking out of the library. “You’re right, of course, and I will do all of that as fast as I can. We can miss the herb gathering, I suppose, but I will not be late for the dances.” </p><p>Geralt grunted, following Jaskier. “Have you seen Teresa?” Jaskier asked, climbing the stairs to their room.</p><p>“No,” Geralt said, and Jaskier nodded. “Right, well, she must have gone to the herb gathering. You won’t mind waiting for me while I get ready?” </p><p>Geralt shook his head, and Jaskier made his way to their room. Geralt returned to the library to clean up Jaskier’s mug and candle. He folded the blanket, placing it on the chair, and took a quick look at the book: <em>A History of Lettenhove</em>, before he was interrupted by someone opening the door. He expected to see Jaskier, ready to go, but instead it was Tessa who stood at the library door, with a basket of herbs on her arm. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.” </p><p>“No, it’s fine, come in.” Geralt said. “I’m just waiting for Jaskier.” </p><p>Teresa nodded, and walked in, closing the door behind her. She walked past Geralt, to the open window, and started to hang bundles of the herbs from her basket. </p><p>Geralt watched her curiously, but she offered no explanation, just finished hanging her herbs and left without another word. Geralt waited a moment and then left the library, running into Jaskier, who was dressed in a dark green doublet, with the flower crown on his head. He smelled of rose lotion, and Geralt inhaled deeply. </p><p>“Ready?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt nodded. Jaskier looked behind Geralt, seeing the herbs in the window. </p><p>“Oh, Tessa must have gone before dawn to gather the herbs. We gather birch and fennel and white lilies, and we hang them in doorways and windows for good luck and protection,” Jaskier explained. “I am sorry we missed it, but I supposed that can’t be helped now.” </p><p>Geralt followed Jaskier out of the castle, and past town, back near the green hills and the rivers where the fire wheel had been last night. A makeshift stage had been set up, and there was a wooden pole with colorful ribbons hanging down from it. The townspeople stood around the pole and the stage, chatting and laughing again, but Geralt noticed that today most of them were dressed in either green or white. A whistle was blown, and a group of young women moved away from the other townspeople, forming a circle around the pole. Jaskier took his lute and took the stage, along with a group of other musicians. </p><p>All the girls in the circle wore white knee length dresses that floated and bounced gracefully as they moved. Another whistle was blown, and the girls, holding hands and giggling, started to spin as the musicians on stage played a jaunty upbeat number. The girls let go of each other’s hands, spun in their spot, and then started to grab each other’s hands, trading partners again and again, half moving clockwise and half moving counter clockwise, and then four girls all joining hands and spinning in the center before repeating the dance. They danced and spun and laughed until the song ended, and then they all clapped. </p><p>Some of the girls left, wandering over to family members or friends, some wandering over to the casks of wine and juice and getting drinks. Some of the girls stayed, panting heavily and whispering to each other. They waited as younger children, older women, and some of the men joined into the circle. Jaskier slipped off the stage and ran over to Geralt. </p><p>“Want to dance?” He called as he approached. Geralt shook his head. Jaskier smiled. “Hold this, then,” and he handed Geralt his lute before jumping in the circle and taking the hands of two very pretty girls. Geralt could not hear what he was saying, but both of the girls started to laugh, and Jaskier turned around and winked at Geralt. The music started up again, a different song but with a similar rhythm and tone, and the dance started again. Jaskier’s footwork was mesmerizing to watch, as he locked arms with different partners and spun around, and then twirled himself and continued on. Geralt found himself only watching Jaskier, whose smile did not falter, not for a moment, nor did his feet. He spun with another young man, almost his height, and then with a woman whose hair was graying, and then with a little eight year old girl with braided pigtails, and then again with one of the women in the white dresses. </p>
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</div><p>The song ended and Jaskier was still twirling and laughing, and he stumbled back over to Geralt, plopping down in the grass next to them.He was panting a little, out of breath. “They’re going to do the maypole dance now, and then a feast.” He told Geralt. </p><p>“Are you going back to dance?” Geralt asked, and Jaskier shook his head. </p><p>“I’m too dizzy now,” Jaskier said. “Besides, I don’t know if I remember how to braid the ribbons properly. It’s been too long.”</p><p>Jaskier stayed beside Geralt, watching as the girls in white dresses once again formed a circle, this time each grabbing a colorful ribbon that hung from the center of the pole. The music started again, and the girls started to skip around, forming pairs, and then lines, weaving the ribbons under and over and spinning around until the music swelled and died down again. The ribbons had all been intertwined, and were now pressed against the maypole, displaying a beautiful bright woven pattern. Everyone clapped as the girls took a bow, and then the crowd dispersed, most walking in the same direction, closer to the town. </p><p>“Lunch?” Geralt asked, standing. </p><p>“Lunch,” Jaskier agreed, holding out a hand. Geralt took it and pulled Jaskier to his feet. Jaskier placed his hands on his hips. “The question is who are we going to eat with?” </p><p>Jaskier and Geralt followed the crowd into a green meadow just outside of town, the sun overhead giving a pleasant warmth to the grass under Geralt’s feet. Jaskier walked with his hands in his pockets, humming one of the songs from the maypole dance. Eight long tables were set up with benches all around them, and with over a dozen cups and plates on each table. </p><p>Geralt was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and noise, but Jaskier seemed right at home, walking confidently towards a table in the middle. Jaskier waved, and Geralt watched as an old man sitting waved back to Jaskier. </p><p>“Leon!” Jaskier said, shaking the man’s hand. </p><p>“Julian,” the man said. “What a delight to have you here.” </p><p>“The delight is all mine, for having seen you.” Jaskier said. “Geralt, this is my old language tutor. Leon, this is Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, and my plus one for this extravagant event.” </p><p>Leon shook Geralt’s and smiled kindly. “Keeping Julian out of trouble, I hope?” </p><p>Geralt chuckled. “I don’t think there is any force in existence that could do that, but I try to take care of him.” </p><p>Leon laughed. “He is quite the troublemaker, I’ll give you that. Although it doesn’t look like you’ve done a bad job. You look well, Julian. And I’ve heard stories of your fame and success as a bard. Heard a couple of your songs, they are quite exceptional. I should be honored to hear the music from the artist himself, if you would indulge an old man?”</p><p>Julian smiled. “I would be delighted. I am performing later, but if you would like a personal concert I would be more than happy to oblige. Do you mind if we join you for the feast?” </p><p>Leon gestured. “No, of course, of course! Sit, both of you.” </p><p>Geralt took his seat. Several of the young men and women in the green aprons started to fill the goblets around the tables with mead before taking their seats. Plates of food were then placed on the tables, and when the servers took their seats, everyone started to eat. </p><p>It was a feast like none Geralt had ever seen, not in any court or at any banquet ever before. Plates were filled with loaves of bread, slathered in butter and fruit preserves; fresh salmon, prawns, and cuts of juicy tender steak, pork, and chicken; savory pastries, pies, tarts, and quiches, cut into slices, the smell of soft flaky dough and the vegetables and meat inside drifting through the air; devilled eggs, cheese, salads and cut vegetables, potatoes, and bowls of fruit were also set out, adding color and spice to the food. Both Geralt and Jaskier dished generous portions onto their plate, and even Geralt could not help the satisfied moan that escaped his lips when he bit into the spiced meat. </p><p>“Melitele, I’d nearly forgotten how good Lettenhove mead was.” Jaskier said, taking a drink from his goblet. Geralt followed suit, marveling at the sweet rich taste of the mead. The cheeses and produce proved to be just as good as the meat and mead, and before Geralt knew it, all of the food from the tables had vanished. </p><p>Stomach full and satisfied, Geralt followed Leon and Jaskier to the town square, where amidst stone and wooden shop fronts decorated with colorful flowers and ribbons, a stage was laid. Usually used for town meetings, announcements, or perhaps even executions, it was now being set up for the music festival. At lunch, Jaskier had worn the blue flower crown he had made the day before, but he now switched it for a flower crown made of green, white, and yellow flowers that matched his doublet and the rest of the Midsummer decor. Townspeople flooded into the square, all standing around the stage, chanting and cheering. Geralt caught the eye of one of the young maidens who had danced around the maypole, and when she noticed him looking, she blushed. </p><p>There were a dozen or so acts before Jaskier, all playing a song of various lengths; one girl sang an acapella song that sounded rather like a mix between a herding call and a yodel, which was not quite so disastrous as Geralt expected, but which certainly did not come close to the melodic talents of Jaskier; a young man performed a jig on an accordion, and another played a popular folk song on a fiddle, both playing while dancing; there were a few duets of musical ability, both instrumental and vocal, and one instance of an entire family all singing a song. Few of the performances impressed Jaskier, but Geralt only found one or two to be particularly dreadful, and so he was rather able to enjoy the festival. </p><p>Jaskier was near the end, and as one of the last performers to take the stage, the crowd was warmed up and awaiting something spectacular. </p><p>Jaskier pulled out his lute and flashed a grin at the crowd. “Hello Lettenhove!” He cried, and the crowd cheered. “My name is Jaskier,” he said, “and this is an original composition entitled <em>Swan Song</em>.” </p><p>Geralt listened as he started to play, the familiarity of Jaskier’s style of fingerpicking on the strings of the lute filling Geralt’s senses and putting him at ease. It started off slow and emotional, as Jaskier’s songs tended to do, and slowly grew more and more energetic. By the second chorus, crowd members were clapping along to the beat, and at the very last refrain, when Jaskier slowed down again, purposefully cracking his voice and growling into the words, Geralt could see certain members of the crowd tearing up. When Jaskier finished and bowed, the crowd erupted into applause, and Jaskier left the stage, coming to stand next to Geralt, grinning. </p><p>“I think that went rather well,” he said. “They certainly seem to think so.” </p><p>Two acts followed Jaskier, neither earning the same crowd reception as Jaskier. At the end of the festival, all of the musicians were called up on stage. The fiddle player and the yodeling girl were both given bouquets and silver pins, and Jaskier was awarded with a gold pin and a laurel wreath, the leaves painted gold. All three acts took more bows as the crowd clapped and cheered, and Jaskier gestured to Geralt to meet him behind the stage. Geralt did so, and Jaskier took his hand. </p><p>“Let’s go,” he said. “Before I get mobbed by my fans.” </p><p>“You’ll sooner be killed by people whose eardrums you’ve made bleed,” Geralt said, but he and Jaskier did indeed walk away from the town square without being followed. </p><p>“Sun’s nearly down,” Jaskier remarked, looking at the sky. “And I did promise Leon a private concert. Want to grab a drink before the bonfires?”</p><p>The sun had fully set when Geralt and Jaskier returned to the green hills, both with full waterskins at their hips. Jaskier was still carrying the lute, but had ditched the laurel wreath, having left it in a place of honor in the front entry hall of the castle. </p><p>Bright bonfires burned, illuminating the fields in every direction. Stacks of smoke rose into the sky, soaking into Geralt’s hair and his clothes, and he knew he would smell of this night for weeks, but he didn’t mind. The bonfires burned, and though the night was not freezing by any means, there was a chill wind that blew, one that flirted with the flames and that threatened to settle into Geralt’s bones, and so the heat from the fire was welcome. </p><p>Jaskier was tuning his lute and talking to Leon. A few others around them looked his way, but only briefly. Those whose gaze Geralt caught smiled at him, and while it was an unfamiliar gesture, it was a welcome one. </p><p>“Alright, ready?” Jaskier called, and some nearby turned to look at him, but Jaskier was looking only at Leon. “Time for some old classics.” </p><p>Jaskier started with Fishmonger’s Daughter, as he often did, and then transitioned to Toss a Coin to your Witcher. By the time he had gotten to the first chorus, people were singing along, and when the song ended many applauded. Jaskier stood and bowed. He played a couple of other songs, some that Geralt had never heard, and ended with another song that everyone knew, and they all clapped and sang along. </p><p>A couple people tossed coins at Jaskier, while others tossed flowers. People milled around, some laying and looking at the stars, some dancing around the bonfires and laughing. Some were throwing flowers and herbs into the fire. Jaskier stowed his lute away, and Leon clapped him on the back. </p><p>“A wonderful performance, I must say,” Leon said. “But now it is late, and I am an old man. I loved seeing you, Julian, you should come around more often. Settle down. Stay in the village.” </p><p>Jaskier stood and helped Leon to his feet. “You know me too well, Leon, to know I will never be satisfied in one place.” </p><p>“This may be true,” Leon said. “But I also used to believe you would never be satisfied giving your heart to only one person.” Leon shook Geralt’s hand again. “I can see how much you mean to him,” he said to Geralt. “Don’t let him go.” </p><p>“I don’t plan to,” Geralt said, looking at Jaskier, who was biting his lip. </p><p>“Well, my young friends, goodnight. I wish you all the best,” Leon said. </p><p>“And you,” Jaskier replied. “Goodnight, Leon.” </p><p>As Leon walked away, Jaskier picked up his lute. “Home again?” He asked Geralt. “The bonfires burn for hours, and there will be people milling about, but we don’t have to stay so long.” </p><p>“Whatever you want,” Geralt said.</p><p>“My darling Witcher, how long I have dreamed of you saying those words.” Jaskier said, starting back towards town. </p><p>“Rest assured, bard, they will never be spoken again.”</p><p>“Oh, I forgot something!” Jaskier said, stopping in his tracks. “Keep going, I’ll catch up.” He turned and started to run back to the bonfires. Geralt watched him walk away, and the thought struck him that he wanted so much to never have to watch Jaskier leave him again. As soon as the thought had entered his head, another one followed. </p><p>“Don’t let him go,” Geralt repeated, thinking of Lars. He thought of Jaskier, singing in the festival, dancing around the maypole, laughing and singing and spinning round and round and round. He thought of Jaskier, patching him up after a bad battle, threatening the elves when they kidnapped Geralt, writing music about Witchers and arguing with anyone who said a bad word about Geralt. He thought of Jaskier, asleep at night, shivering and moaning, and how he felt in Geralt’s arms. He thought of Jaskier spending hours in a library at night, renouncing his title to please his sister and to stay on the road with Geralt.<br/>
Jaskier returned, running to Geralt’s side. “I told you to keep going,” he said. </p><p>Geralt grunted. “Wanted to make sure you came back safely.”</p><p>“Geralt, I will always come back,” Jaskier said, and Geralt thought of finding him, again and again, after every parting, in old inns and forests across the continent. </p><p>Tomorrow Geralt was going to find a jeweler, and he was going to buy a ring.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt awoke, <em>again</em>, to an empty bed; a habit he was eager to break. He dressed quickly and walked downstairs, and seeing no sign of Jaskier, walked right out the door and into town. </p><p>Few people were outside so early, but Geralt was able to flag a young woman down. </p><p>“Is there a jeweler nearby?” He asked. She pointed him in the right direction, and Geralt continued walking, fast, until he found the jeweler.<br/>
He had never done this before, nor had he thought about doing it, nor had he ever talked to anyone about wedding ring shopping. The jewler stared at him strangely when he walked in, but then his face filled with relief. </p><p>“You’re the Witcher here with Lord Julian.” </p><p>Geralt nodded. “I am.” </p><p>The man’s face relaxed, and he smiled at Geralt. “Well what can I help you with, friend?” </p><p>Geralt swallowed hard, suddenly very uneasy. “I - I’m here to buy a ring.” </p><p>“For Lord Julian?” </p><p>Geralt nodded slowly. The man’s smile grew wider. </p><p>“An engagement ring?” </p><p>Geralt nodded again, sheepishly. The man laughed. “Well, congratulations! I wish you both the best. Luckily for you, I know Lord Julian’s ring size. I’ve done work for him before.” </p><p>Geralt panicked for a quick second, realizing that he didn’t know Jaskier’s ring size, nor had he anticipated needing to know it. What else didn’t he know that he needed to? Was this a mistake? </p><p>But the jeweler had already turned around, picking out rings from a box behind him, and putting him on a counter in front of Geralt. </p><p>“There are a couple kind of rings to choose from. You could get a fede ring-” the man pointed to a gold ring that had been shaped to look like two hands clasped together - “a gimmel ring, which is two rings that interlock to form one ring, or you could get a posey ring, which has a short poem or saying engraved on it.” </p><p>Geralt looked over the rings, some silver, some gold, all with different engravings, some with bright stones set in the bands, and his eyes landed on a simple gold ring with a pattern of flowers. Each flower was set with a small blue stone that glittered in the light. Geralt picked up the ring, examining it. </p><p>“This is it.” He said. “This is the one.” </p><p>The jeweler chuckled. “A wonderful choice. Congratulations, again.” </p><p>Geralt walked back to the castle alone, his coin purse significantly lighter than before. When he opened the castle door, Teresa was in the entry hall, reading. </p><p>“Morning,” she said, setting her book down. Geralt nodded at her. </p><p>“Jaskier went into town to find a lawyer,” Teresa said. “He told me to tell you he would be back around noon, and that you had the morning to do whatever you wanted.” </p><p>Geralt grunted. “Thanks.” </p><p>“I also was coming to ask you if you wanted to join me for lunch.” </p><p>Geralt nodded and followed Teresa downstairs, not into the kitchen where they had eaten before, but into a proper dining room. Blue satin curtains were pulled open to allow the sun to stream in. Birds perched on the trees in the garden, and the sky was the same cloudless blue as the day before. Two places, the left and the right of the head of the dining table, were set, and silver trays of food were set before them. Teresa took her place on the left of the table, and Geralt sat on the right. </p><p>Teresa took off the lids of the trays to reveal eggs, bacon, fruit, bread, and cheese. “I know it’s not much,” she said. “Certainly not a feast, but-” </p><p>“It’s wonderful,” Geralt said. “Thank you.” </p><p>The pair of them dished up and started to eat in silence. Geralt could not tell if Teresa was simply not as talkative as Jaskier, or if she was off-put or awkward because of him. He continued to eat and sit in silence, waiting for her to start a conversation, and when he was halfway through his plate, she did. </p><p>“What do Witchers do, exactly? I know you kill monsters, but where have you and Julian been for the last few years?” </p><p>Gerat shrugged. “Here and there. I take contracts for money, sometimes from villages, sometimes from private contractors, sometimes from… other associates. Jaskier travels with me, plays at the inns for our room.” </p><p>“Is he happy? I know he says he is, and I know he must act different on the road than he does here with me, but is he… is he alright?” </p><p>Geralt stared at Teresa. Her face was filled with concern, with worry, with hope. Her expression was one that softened Geralt, though it was also quite unreadable. “I take care of him.” Geralt said. “He has found some renown as a bard, and he is safe and satisfied. I can’t say I have never known him to complain, but he is one for theatrics. I do think he is happy with me.” </p><p>Teresa nodded. “And you are happy with him?” </p><p>Geralt nodded. “As much as I might say to the contrary, I am.” </p><p>“I wish you both the best, then.” Teresa said. “I cannot lie and say I did not also have my doubts about Julian running away to become a bard. Not because he lacks the talent, but because I could not imagine being happy in the life that he has. But if he truly does wish to give up his title for you, and for the life that you have, I am happy for you. I’ve spent so much time resenting him, and now to see him again… to see him so different than how he was as a teenager, and so much the same, I can’t resent him anymore. You truly bring out the best in him.” Teresa smiled at Geralt. </p><p>Geralt stared at his plate. “I’m asking him to marry me,” Geralt said. Teresa’s expression turned to shock, and then to joy. </p><p>“That’s wonderful!” She said. “Gods, I didn’t think Jaskier would ever get married unless it was arranged somehow, and I honestly didn’t even know that Witchers could get married, but that's… that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you both.” </p><p>Geralt looked at her and allowed himself to smile. “I have your blessing then?”</p><p>Tessa laughed. “Of course you do.” She put her hand out to Geralt, and he shook it. As he did, he heard a door open, and both Geralt and Teresa turned to watch Jaskier waltz in, humming a tune and with piles of papers and books in his hand. </p><p>“Morning!” He said brightly. “Am I interrupting something?” </p><p>“No,” Teresa said. “Come in. There’s still some food left.” </p><p>“I’ll put these away and then I’ll join you.” Jaskier walked to the library, and Teresa stood quickly to clear her dishes and kiss Geralt on the cheek. </p><p>“Good luck,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll say yes.” </p><p>Jaskier returned and ate with Geralt, talking the whole time about lawyers and procedure and how law fees were ridiculous, and then he dragged Geralt outside to take a walk through the fields and the forests. “We have one day left in Lettenhove,” he said. “Let’s make the most of it.” </p><p>Jaskier was friendly to all they passed, and everyone seemed to know him, especially after his performance at Midsummer. Old friends waved and young women tried to flirt, but the audience that worshiped Julian most of all were the children of Lettenhove. The children flocked around Jaskier, asking him about his lute and his clothes. Jaskier would ask any question they asked, or else he would spin wild tales for the kids that followed behind him as he walked. He tossed spare copper coins to some of the smaller ones who looked too skinny, and taught some of the older ones how to play basic chords on his lute, praising them all the while. </p><p>And, of course, trailing behind Jaskier and his army of giggling children, was Geralt. The children were scared of him, and they kept their distance, gathering around Jaskier and only shooting Geralt curious looks. Geralt also tried to keep his distance, trailing behind Jaskier, enough to keep Jaskier in his sight, but far enough not to startle the children. The children took notice of Geralt, but said nothing, nervously staring at him, or else ignoring him completely, engrossed in Jaskier’s stories. Then Jaskier looked to check that Geralt was still there, and Geralt locked eyes with him. Jaskier led the children to a clearing in the town square, where baskets of flowers bloomed on every corner of the square, and the foot traffic was slightly less. Jaskier gestured to Geralt to come sit, and though he tried to refuse, Jaskier insisted. So he took a seat beside Jaskier. </p><p>“This is Geralt!” Jaskier announced happily. “All of my <em>best</em> stories have him as the hero.” </p><p>“But Lord Julian, my parents say he’s a witcher,” one boy said nervously. </p><p>“Indeed he is,” Jaskier said. “Have any of you ever met a Witcher before?” </p><p>The enraptured audience of children shook their heads. </p><p>“Witchers are big and strong, and they protect people from monsters. Witchers carry two swords, and they are amazing fighters. You needn’t be afraid of Witchers, so long as you aren’t hurting people. Witchers only hurt things with sharp teeth and sharp claws.” Jaskier talked with his hands, and when he said <em>sharp claws,</em> he grabbed one of the kids closest to him, a little blond boy about six or seven, and started to tickle him, making all the kids laugh. </p><p>“You fight monsters?” One of the children asked.<br/>
“I do,” Geralt responded.<br/>
“And you don’t fight people?” one of the younger children clarified.<br/>
Geralt paused. “Only bullies,” he said. “I don’t like bullies.”<br/>
Jaskier took his hand and squeezed it. “Yes,” he said. “Geralt protects us from monsters and bullies and nightmares.” </p><p>This seemed to satisfy the children, and instantaneously all tension and fear dissipated as the children continued to ask Geralt questions about being a Witcher. </p><p>“Mr. Geralt, how did you learn to fight monsters?”<br/>
“Why are your eyes yellow?”<br/>
“Cool swords Mr. Geralt! Can you teach me how to swordfight?”<br/>
“Can I get strong like you?”<br/>
“Are you strong enough to pick me up?”<br/>
“Are you strong enough to pick up Lord Julian?”<br/>
This caused laughter and cries of “Do it! Pick up Lord Julian!” To echo through the crowd. </p><p>“Well, we can’t leave our audience disappointed,” Jaskier said, getting to his feet. Geralt followed suit, and deftly swept Jaskier off his feet, carrying him bridal style. Jaskier laughed. “There you are,” he said. “You can indeed pick me up.” </p><p>Geralt wanted so badly to kiss Jaskier, but now half a dozen children were asking to be picked up, and Geralt had never been so popular before. He was not going to ruin it now. So he set Jaskier down, and turned to the children. He knelt, allowing a small girl to jump on his back, her tiny arms around his neck. He then took two other kids in his arms, hoisted them up with a grunt, and spun around. </p><p>After that, Jaskier started to tell another story, the one about when Geralt had killed a particularly annoying Devourer, and all the while, kids were climbing over Geralt like a jungle gym. One of the girls had started braiding his hair, and other kids gathered flowers to braid into it, all listening to Jaskier’s story, gasping and laughing with nearly every line that spewed from his lips. And when he finished the story, the children crowded around Geralt. </p><p>“Did that really happen?” They asked. “Mr. Geralt, did you really kill the monster? Are Lord Julian’s stories true?” </p><p>“More or less,” he said, and the children cheered. </p><p>When Jaskier and Geralt walked home that night, they had a small girl in between them, each holding one of her hands and swinging her as they walked. Julian was singing some sort of nursery rhyme with dozens of verses that Geralt had never heard before, but it was a song the children knew and they sang along. They made their way to the castle and said goodbye, much to the children’s dismay, and as the children wandered home Geralt could still hear some of them singing ‘Toss a coin to your witcher’. The sunset painted a cloudless sky pink and orange, and a breeze blew softly. Geralt faintly wondered if he had ever been so happy as this. </p><p>“You up for a picnic?” Jaskier asked. “Grab a blanket from our room, there should be some spares in the cupboard, and I’ll run to the kitchen real quick and meet you back out here.” </p><p>Geralt did as Jaskier asked, and returned to find Jaskier waiting for him. </p><p>“We’re actually going back inside, but I thought it would be easier to meet here. Just so you don’t get lost, which I have accidentally done many times. Follow me!” Jaskier started to walk back into the castle, down the hallway into a room Geralt had not yet seen, and then pressed his fingers into a wall of stone, pulling away a secret door. </p><p>“You might have to duck,” Jaskier said. “I used to do this as a kid, and I was a lot shorter then.” </p><p>They did have to duck, but only slightly, and only for a small amount of time as the door led to a winding staircase. </p><p>“Servant’s passageways,” Jaskier said. “Abandoned mostly, because my father was incredibly paranoid about servants hiding things in here or spying on him. But this staircase leads to the roof.” </p><p>“The roof?”</p><p>“Yeah, the view up there is amazing.” Jaskier started to ascend the staircase. </p><p>“What’s in the basket?” Geralt called. </p><p>“You’ll see.” Geralt could hear the cheeky grin in Jaskier’s voice. They reached the top of the staircase. Against the opposite wall was a ladder, leading to a trapdoor. Jaskier set down the basket and started to climb the ladder, pushing open the trapdoor as he did. He disappeared onto the roof, and then called out to Geralt.</p><p>“Hand me the basket?” He said, holding out a hand. Geralt complied. Jaskier’s feet disappeared for a second, and then returned. “Blanket?” He said, and Geralt handed that over as well.</p><p>“Wait here for just a second,” Jaskier said, and his feet disappeared again. Geralt could hear his footsteps, and guessed that he was spreading out the blanket. </p><p>“Alright, come up!” </p><p>Geralt scaled the ladder, pulling himself onto the roof where Jaskier laid waiting. He stood and dusted himself off. </p><p>The sun had set, but some impudent rays still lingered in the sky. The roof faced the sunset, overlooking the castle grounds and the town in the distance, green and golden rolling hills spread out in the horizon, just catching the dying daylight. A light summer breeze blew, ruffling Jaskier’s hair. </p><p>“Jaskier, this is beautiful.” </p><p>“Isn’t it? I used to run up here to escape when my father was in one of his moods. Look, you can see the bakery from here, and I always knew when the baker had a new set of pies because he used to set them on his windowsill to cool, and I would run down to the bakery when he brought them in and be the first one to buy a slice. You can see the woods and the orchards, and I would always know when the apples and the lemons were ready to pick. And I used to lay up here and cloud watch, or stargaze, all by myself. Sometimes if you close your eyes, and it’s quiet and the wind is blowing, you can stare into the sky and feel like you’re floating, or like you’re going to just start falling up.” Jaskier laid back on the blanket as he talked, laying on his side with his head resting on one of his hands, looking out at the valley. </p><p>Geralt watched him, traced the curve of his silhouette with his gaze. He had taken off his purple doublet and was only wearing a pale blue undershirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow. The outfit hugged his form attractively, revealing the toned arms underneath. Geralt could just barely see the hint of Jaskier’s collarbones, and some dark chest hair peeking over the top of the shirt. Jaskier met his gaze and smiled, as if he knew exactly what Geralt was thinking. Jaskier sat up to say something, but his gaze moved from Geralt to the picnic basket.</p><p>“Oh! I’d nearly forgotten,” he cried, and grabbed the picnic basket. Inside were two wine glasses, two plates, a pile of strawberries, a bottle of wine, bread and cheese. </p><p>“I just kind of grabbed stuff from the kitchen, but I think I managed to find a rather impressive meal, no?” Jaskier took a strawberry and bit into it, laughing as juice ran down his chin. “Forgot napkins,” he said sheepishly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He reached into the basket, pulling out some of the cheese, and holding it up to Geralt. </p><p>“Try this,” he said, and Geralt took a bite. The Witcher couldn’t help the grunt of satisfaction that followed when the cheese hit his tongue. </p><p>“Best dairy farm in Redania, right here in this valley,” Jaskier said proudly. “It’s the reason I’m such a food snob. I’ve played many courts in the land, and feasted with the highest of nobility, but never have I tasted cheese as fine as the one they serve in Lettenhove.” </p><p>“When’s the last time you were here?” Geralt asked. </p><p>Jaskier shrugged. “Before I met you,” he said. “Must have been a decade or so, at least. I had only just graduated from Oxenfurt.” </p><p>“You didn’t miss it?” </p><p>“I missed it terribly.” Jaskier said. “I never found an excuse to come back. I didn’t think anyone here wanted me back. Until Anya invited me. I’m glad when I did come back it was for Midsummer.”</p><p>“You seem to enjoy it a great deal,” Geralt said. “I never knew you loved it so much.” </p><p>“It was my favorite holiday as a kid. I would wait all year for it. It was the only day my father would let me run around and play with the other kids. And you know I love to play for festivals, to <em>really</em> perform. I knew you probably never had this, not at Kaer Morhen, and I guess - I guess I thought that we could have it, <em>together,</em> and we could have just a moment of pure bliss, without any complicated bullshit.” Jaskier chuckled to himself. “We should be so lucky, right? Everywhere I go I find complicated bullshit. Now I’m wondering if it would have been better for me to stay away.” </p><p>“Why don’t you ever talk about it?” Geralt asked. </p><p>“I don’t know,” Jaskier said. “Daddy issues don’t really make for great songs, and no one’s ever cared about my feelings before.” </p><p>“I do,” Geralt reassured him, taking Jaskier’s hands, stilling them.</p><p>“I know, love. I know you do. But after years of repressing it? After years of training myself to play the fool, of thinking that people would only like me if I was smiling and laughing? It’s a little difficult to change.” </p><p>Geralt desperately wished, not for the first time, that he was as talented with words as Jaskier was. He wished he knew what to say, what to do, to comfort Jaskier, to assure him that it was going to be alright. But words failed him, as they so often did, and Geralt simply resorted to squeezing Jaskier’s hand. </p><p>“You really don’t mind hearing about this?” Jaskier said softly, his expression and voice filled with doubt. </p><p>Geralt shook his head. “If you’ll let me hear about it, I will. I want to.” </p><p>Jaskier took a deep breath, as if he was summoning courage. He laid down, his hand still in Geralt’s, looking up at the stars. Geralt watched his face, his blue eyes sparkling in the starlight, his tongue running anxiously over his lips, a slight blush gracing his cheeks. Geralt had always known without a doubt that Jaskier was the prettiest person he had ever seen, but now it was like he was looking at Jaskier for the first time. And in a way, he was. He had never seen Jaskier like this, so lost in himself, so wistful and nostalgic. He was scared if he moved, he would scare Jaskier away, and if he did do anything to stop Jaskier or make him uncomfortable, Geralt knew he would never forgive himself. Jaskier looked so trusting, so grateful, so willing to lay his heart at Geralt’s feet, and it made Geralt’s stomach flutter. Jaskier had never looked so beautiful as he did now. </p><p>“I ran away from home when I was thirteen because I so badly did not want to be a Viscount.” Jaskier began. “I learned the lute as a child, and although my childhood efforts of writing music were not so appreciated, I fell in love with it. So I ran away, I applied to Oxenfurt, I changed my name, I renounced my family. All my father ever wanted was for me to be like him, to be a Viscount, to be serious and responsible. And I enjoy court, I can’t deny it, I enjoy fineries and the attention and the food and the music. I enjoyed it when I was younger, and I enjoy it now. But I never really fit in there, not sitting at the high tables with the nobles and their families. Oh, I pretend, I have spent my whole <em>fucking</em> life pretending to be something I’m not, but despite my father’s best efforts I just couldn’t resign myself to the life he lived. He wanted me to, so badly, and he told me so every day of my life, beating it into me, and I resent him for it. And even though I hated him, I still bent and broke myself trying to become what he wanted. Do you know, even now, even though he’s dead, I can hear his voice in my ears sometimes?” </p><p>Jaskier scrunched his eyebrows and dropped his voice into a gruff and harsh snarl, an imitation that made Geralt’s hair stand on end. “Stand up straight, Julian. Come inside, Julian, don’t play with the gutter trash you call friends. Can’t you make decent company for once, you maggot? Can’t you follow orders? You are only a success because of me. Without me you are nothing. You want to be a bard? Bards are nothing. You are nothing. Which finger is your favorite, Julian, I’ll cut it off and we’ll see how well you play your precious lute.” </p><p>Jaskier’s voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut. </p><p>“And Gods, the responsibility!” Jaskier exclaimed after a beat of silence. He was laughing in frustration, but tears were coming out of the corners of his eyes. “Geralt, I could hardly manage to show up to classes on time in Oxenfurt. I’ve traveled with you for what, six years? And I’m only just learning how to hunt for myself and start a fire? I write poetry for Gods’ sake, I am all pining and pleasantries, shallow and void of substance, and they wanted me to run a fiefdom. I’m just not cut out for leadership. I would squander my inheritance on extravagant gallas and the most ridiculously expensive outfits I could find, just because I could. That’s what kind of a son I am.” </p><p>Geralt kissed the back of Jaskier’s hand. “You are not nothing,” Geralt said. “You are not shallow, Jaskier, however full of poetry you might be. You’re a damn good bard, and the best man I know.” </p><p>Jaskier nodded, but Geralt could tell he did not believe it. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this.” </p><p>Geralt shrugged. “It’s not the worst thing you’ve dragged me into. And honestly, this time I’m happy you dragged me along.” </p><p>Jaskier laughed. “That’s true, this isn’t the worst thing I’ve dragged you into. At least we’re not in any danger of dying, unless Tessa tries to assassinate me in my sleep. Which actually, I wouldn’t put past her.” </p><p>“She didn’t seem happy to see you,” Geralt said, remembering their meeting. </p><p>“No, she didn’t. Is there a question?” </p><p>“You apologized for something.” </p><p>Jaskier sat up. “It’s a complicated thing, but she resents the fact that I’m never here. She hates that I got to run away and go to Oxenfurt and I left her to clean up the mess. She hates that she was left here alone to deal with my father and… and she was left alone to bury my mom.” </p><p>“Jaskier, I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Yeah. It’s alright, it was a long time ago. I was sixteen? My mom got sick, and Tess had to take care of her by herself. I never had to see her sick, or weak, and I never had to see her body dead and lifeless. I guess she thinks that it’s unfair that I only have good memories of mom. I think it’s unfair that I didn’t- I never got to say goodbye.” </p><p>“Did you want to?” </p><p>Jaskier nodded. “My mother was not quite a saint, but she was not as bad as my father. And I did love her. I miss her, still. She was the one who encouraged me to learn an instrument. Thought it would make me more interesting to suitors.” Jaskier looked at Geralt. “Did it work?” He said with false innocence, raising an eyebrow. </p><p>Geralt chuckled. “It might have, if I cared about that kind of thing.” </p><p>Jaskier nodded thoughtfully. “It is true, you did once compare a true master of the craft to fillingless pie. You must be deaf, or else insane.” </p><p>“For what it’s worth, Jaskier, I think she’s forgiven you. She wants you to be happy.” </p><p>Jaskier looked surprised. “Does she truly? I want all the best for her. It’s strange that we could never be friends as children, and that she could resent me for so many years, and suddenly I come back and it’s all squared away.” </p><p>“Talk to her, then.” </p><p>“I should. I don’t know if I can.” </p><p>Geralt looked at Jaskier, and remembered Teresa’s expression at breakfast that morning. “You can.” </p><p>Jaskier paused for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on the back of Geralt's hand. </p><p>“I love you,” Jaskier said. “Truly, I do. I’m not just saying that because I’m sad and I’m a little drunk. I love you, and I’m glad you came with me. I’m glad someone as wonderful as you is willing to come with me, and listen to my drunken rants, and tell me to talk to my sister.” </p><p>“I’ll always be willing, Jask,” Geralt said. <em>I love you too</em>, he wanted to say, but the words caught in his throat. </p><p>Jaskier sat up, pulling Geralt close to him. Geralt leaned in to kiss him. Jaskier smiled in the kiss and then pulled away. “You taste like strawberries,” he giggled, and kissed Geralt again. </p><p>“It’s late,” he said. “We should go inside.” </p><p>Geralt helped to pack up the picnic basket and the blanket, and followed Jaskier back downstairs, to their room. Jaskier put away the blanket, and Geralt started to prepare for bed. Jaskier did not join him. </p><p>“Another night in the library?” Geralt asked. </p><p>“The lawyer was a great help,” Jaskier said. “I just have to be sure I’m making the right decision. I need to know I’m doing the right thing.” </p><p>“I understand,” Geralt replied. “I’m just worried about you.” </p><p>Jaskier laughed. “When are you not worried about me? A few night’s missed sleep is harmless in the grand scheme of my life. Next week I’ll sleep soundly and you can go back to worrying about me getting torn apart by harpies or something of that nature.” </p><p>Geralt grunted. “At least there’s something I could do against the harpies.” </p><p>“But there is no fighting me, is there? No changing my mind.” Jaskier blew a kiss and Geralt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jaskier laughed again. “You love it, I know you do. See you tomorrow.” </p><p>It was only when Jaskier walked away and Geralt was left alone in their room that he allowed himself to smile, a completely unadulterated grin that surprised even him. He thought of the ring inside of his saddlebag and lulled himself to sleep by dreaming up ways to propose to Jaskier.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt rolled over to see Jaskier sitting at his desk, a candle burning and two empty candle holders next to it. </p><p>Geralt laid back down, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Jaskier, for fuck’s sake, you have to stop doing this.” </p><p>Jaskier had books open in front of him, and was muttering and scribbling on parchment, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. He seemed not to hear Geralt. </p><p>“Did you sleep?” Geralt asked. </p><p>“A little,” Jaskier replied. “Just did a bit of light reading.” </p><p>Geralt threw off the blanket and stood to look over Jaskier’s shoulder. He tried to read a paragraph of the book to see what Jaskier had been reading. Dense, legal prose that gave Geralt a headache. He grunted and sat on the bed. </p><p>“Have you made your decision?” </p><p>“Yes, I have.” Jaskier said, as he finished whatever he was scribbling. He turned to look at Geralt, his eyes shining, despite the lack of sleep. “I went over every law regarding abdication. I’ve read my father’s will, and I’ve read sample drafts of other abdications, and I’ve checked and double checked that I’ve done it all legally and properly. I’ve drawn up the papers, with the help of the lawyer, and I’ve thought through every contingency. I finally know what I want. I just need to sign them and the entire inheritance will be Tessa’s. I forfeit it all.” </p><p>“You’re sure?” Geralt said. “You understand you can never go back if you do this. You might want things later on down the road. Things I can’t provide you.” </p><p>“My dear Witcher,” Jaskier said, setting down the paper. “The grass is green and soft beneath my feet. The sun is high and the sky is blue. The wine is sweet and plenty. I have you by my side, and my lute on my back. What else could I ever possibly need?” </p><p>Jaskier placed a tender kiss on Geralt’s forehead. He picked up the pen, signed his name with a flourish, and let out an exclamation of joy. </p><p>“Gods, I’m glad to be rid of it.” Jaskier said. “Not longer will the title ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ haunt my dreams. I’m finally fucking <em>free</em>.” </p><p>Jaskier walked out of the room, Geralt trailing behind him, and handed the papers to Teresa, who was reading in the parlor. </p><p>Tessa sat up, closing her book and taking the papers. “What’s-” </p><p>“Just read them.” Jaskier responded. </p><p>Geralt watched as Teresa’s eyes glanced over the words, reading them once, and then twice. She looked at Jaskier in shock and silence for a moment, and then squealed and threw her arms around him. </p><p>“Julian, holy shit, really?” </p><p>Jaskier laughed. “I am positive. You are the Countess de Lettenhove, and all titles, land, money, and whatever other garbage comes up belong solely to you. I will never disappoint father again.” </p><p>“You won’t have to,” Teresa teased. “This is enough of a disappointment to last him a lifetime.” The air between the two of them grew somber, and Jaskier’s smile grew sad. Tessa sensed the shift in air and kissed Jaskier on the cheek. “Thank you, Julian. Thank you.” </p><p>Jaskier nodded. “If you ever need a bard to play at your coronation or a grand party or just for your court, you know who to call.” </p><p>“You and Geralt are welcome back anytime.” Teresa said, smiling at Geralt. Geralt nodded his thanks. </p><p>“We’ve spent enough time in this old castle, I think.” Jaskier said. “Come on, Geralt. There’s one last thing I want to show you, and then we’ll be off.” </p><p>They packed their equipment and loaded up Roach, Jaskier saying one more fond farewell to Teresa. </p><p>“Leave Roach, we’re better off walking.” Jaskier said. Geralt nodded, but slipped the ring box from his saddlebag into his pocket. Knowing Jaskier, he was dragging them off to some romantic location, and this was the closest Geralt was ever going to get to a peaceful moment and a parent’s blessing. </p><p>Jaskier led Geralt, hand in hand, to a beautiful footbridge over a quiet, sparkling river. “I used to hang upside down from the bridge,” Jaskier said. “Oh the frivolity of youth.” </p><p>“Bet you could still do it,” Geralt said. Jaskier glared at him, but his eyes sparkled. </p><p>“You only say that lest I slip and hit my head, so you’d finally be rid of me.” Geralt scoffed. </p><p>“I’d save you before you drowned. You’d be fine.” </p><p>Jaskier grinned. “I trust you would. Fine, then, you’re only saying that so you can get the satisfaction of seeing me shirtless <em>and</em> saving my life in one afternoon.” </p><p>“Maybe so,” Geralt said. </p><p>Jaskier leant his head on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could smell the rose lotion he used, and deeply inhaled. Gods, he could drown in that scent, and be grateful that he was dying. </p><p>The river flowed softly over silver rocks below clear water, the sound of the wind and the trees and the water over stones creating a beautiful cacophony. </p><p>“Do you hear the music of the Earth?” Jaskier said, and Geralt <em>hmmm</em>ed. “I could write a million songs in a million years and not capture the beauty of it,” Jaskier said. He lifted his head and looked into Geralt’s eyes. </p><p>“Speaking of which, I uh, I was going to write you a song.” Jaskier said. “I have something important to say, and I thought that might be the best way to do it. Got halfway through, and I was pretty proud of it, but I didn’t think I would be able to get all the way through without laughing or crying or just chickening out. </p><p>I was going to make a big speech, too. I started writing you poetry, flowery and long, and I realized that probably isn’t what you really wanted. I’ve given enough emotional speeches this week, anyway. So here’s all I’ve got. Geralt of Rivia, you are the love of my life, however short that life may be. I literally don’t think I could spend a day without you, but even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. I’ve known you and I’ve loved you for years, and even though you have met my family and you know all of my baggage, you stood by me and loved me when no one else did. I know now that I will never, ever stop loving you.”</p><p>Jaskier knelt down and pulled out a ring, a black puzzle ring with three bands, each with a unique silver piece. Geralt recognized that when joined together, the bands would form the head of a silver wolf. </p><p>Jaskier’s eyes, watery and hopeful, met Geralt’s, wide with surprise. “Will you marry me?” Jaskier asked. </p><p>Geralt laughed, a deep hearty chuckle that he could not contain, and Jaskier’s face filled with dread. Geralt reached into his pocket, grabbing the ring box, and opened it for Jaskier to see the beautiful glittering ring inside. Jaskier stood up and punched Geralt on the arm, and started to laugh too. </p><p>“You idiot,” he said. “You absolute, beautiful buffoon. What the fuck. I love you so much.” Jaskier pulled Geralt into a hug. He wiped tears from his eyes, and slipped his wedding band on Geralt’s finger. Geralt admired the wolf’s head for a moment, and then put his band on Jaskier’s finger. </p><p>Jaskier sat admiring his ring, but Geralt only had eyes for him. </p><p>“I love you, Julain Alfred Pankratz.” He said. “I love you now and I always will.” </p><p>Jaskier looked at him, smiling. “I love you too, Geralt of Rivia.” His face faltered for a second. “Wait. Did Tessa tell you my whole name?” </p><p>Geralt chuckled. “Maybe.” </p><p>Jaskier huffed. “I was going to say we should get out of Lettenhove and go back on the road, just you and me, on a romantic getaway, maybe you could rescue me from some monsters, maybe I would write a new song about my handsome Witcher. But actually now that I think about it, I think we need to go back to the castle so I can kill my sister.” </p><p>Geralt put his hand around Jaskier’s waist, pulling the bard close to him. Jaskier leant in, capturing Geralt’s lips in his own, and Geralt moaned into the kiss. After spending days with the eyes of curious townsfolk on them, and after three nights without Jaskier in his bed, the kiss was everything Geralt had ever wanted. Jaskier’s hands were firm and demanding, his lips soft and tender. He was smiling into the kiss slightly, and when they pulled away for air, Jaskier’s chest was visibly rising and falling with each deep breath. Geralt could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, and he could hear Jaskier’s heart beating in a steady upbeat rhythm as well. </p><p>“Back on the road?” Geralt asked softly. Jaskier nodded, and when he had caught his breath, he looked over his shoulder at the river, at the trees and the rocks on the bank, at the water sparkling in the rays of the sun. </p><p>“Goodbye, Lettenhove.” He said. “It’s been fun.” </p><p>They walked back to Roach. Geralt gestured to Jaskier to hop on the back, and Jaskier’s face lit up. Geralt urged Roach onwards, and they rode out of the valley back to the main road. They took one last look at the town, at the castle, at the fields, and on they rode.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Polished Jade and illustrated by Teddy LaCroix for the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Geraskier_Midsummer_Mini_Bang"> Geraskier_Midsummer_Mini_Bang!</a><br/>Thank you to <a href="https://twitter.com/breadinhispants"> Mystborn</a> for being my Beta Reader!<br/>We're <a href="https://polished-jade.tumblr.com/">@polished-jade</a> and <a href="https://teddylacroix.tumblr.com/">@TeddyLaCroix</a> on Tumblr if you care to drop a follow!<br/>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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